


Close Spaces Getting Closer (Education Variation 07)

by Lucifer_Rosemaunt



Series: Education series [7]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifer_Rosemaunt/pseuds/Lucifer_Rosemaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short ficlet variations on a theme: education/school. They have a midnight routine… that Raoul doesn't know about, yet. Modern!AU, university!AU, liberties taken with their ages. ErikRaoul slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Spaces Getting Closer (Education Variation 07)

o.o.o.o

Erik sat at his desk, the table lamp turned more towards the wall than the sketchbook that lay open. That meant the sheet was cast in more shadow than was conducive to working, but he was considerate enough of a roommate to know that the other occupant of their shared room had had a research paper due the night before and subsequently got far less sleep than his body could handle. Said roommate was currently a lump in the bed, huddled beneath a heavy comforter and several blankets with only a mess of blond hair poking out. Still Erik was careful to not disturb him unnecessarily.

It was a difficult thing not to openly mock his roommate for his lack of any tolerance towards the cold; in fact, Erik did not bother to try. He mocked him relentlessly about it especially when Raoul seemed to return to their dorm room every day with yet another purchased blanket to lay upon the already layered bed. He always met Erik’s eyes with a rather mutinous expression, as though daring him to say anything.

Erik was never one to refuse a dare.

Then again, he had already sent the building supervisor several of the required forms to get the heat working on their floor again, and he had yet to see any results. He could do without the chattering teeth as his roommate huddled on the bed, clutching blankets to himself while he tried to read his textbooks. It was distracting. He was not sure what Buquet actually did, but fixing heaters was apparently not included to whatever that list contained. Erik was inclined to believe he was around only to gawk at the girls.

The lump on the bed moved, the sheets shifting and Erik put his pencil down. It was not as though he had been doing anything particularly productive. He glanced down at the rough sketches of familiar hands, lips turned up in a gentle smile, and eyes that sought his whenever they were in the same room.

Only when a pale leg slipped from beneath the blankets, the sweatpants Raoul was wearing bunched up above his knee, did Erik bother closing the sketchbook and getting out of his chair. He slid the wooden chair standard for all the dorm rooms beneath the desk and waited.

Raoul and he had been sharing the same space for the past three months and as much as Erik had tried to ignore him and demand boundaries to exist between them in the beginning, Raoul had a way of demolishing all the walls he erected.

Raoul made him breakfast no matter how many times Erik said he did not eat in the morning. The only thing that argument had done was downgrade the eggs, bacon, toast, and pancake breakfasts to simple toast, jam, and orange juice. The only reason he ate the meager fare at all was because the blond insisted on using the bread that was specifically labelled as Erik’s – even though he knew Raoul had a bad tendency to replenish both of their groceries and then label them as Erik’s, as though he were sneaky and Erik would not recognize the lack of his own handwriting. He hated to admit that he liked Sundays though when Raoul pretended to accidentally make an excess of banana-nutella crepes that he would then leave on the counter and loudly _hope_ it wouldn’t “go to waste.” They never did, but Erik only ate them grudgingly because who did Raoul think he was fooling not being able to figure out in the past dozen weeks how to cut a recipe in half.

The only reason Erik was not being stuffed with food was because breakfast was the only thing Raoul could actually cook. Every other attempt at the stove or oven ended up in disaster, enough so that Erik had made a rule that Raoul was not allowed to even touch kitchen appliances after 10am, unless it was to make breakfast at some other time of day. It was only because he could not let him starve with this rule in place that he cooked them both dinner most nights. After all, Raoul had somehow managed to burn soup. It was his duty to make sure their dorm room survived the school year.  

Not only food though, Raoul was currently still borrowing his bicycle because his had been “stolen.” Erik knew Raoul had loaned his to someone who had actually had her bicycle stolen. Erik had seen her ride it around campus; Meg, he’s certain her name was because he had seen Christine with her every now and then. So, it was not a surprise that Raoul had no problems asking to borrow almost everything that could possibly be shared, and in return, Erik often found little gifts like pencils, charcoal, and putty erasers on his desk every now and then.

Furthermore, his roommate seemed to not care that Erik did not respond to most conversations and would just continue to talk about his day. The only reason they had survived each other’s company for so long even with Raoul being so talkative, Erik was certain, was because Raoul was not a morning person and needed at least one cup of coffee before he could function well, much less string together a sentence. Erik liked him most then, sleepy and clumsy and giving him that small smile as though he was just pleased that Erik was the first person he could see in the morning.

That was wrong though. Erik liked him most at nights like this when Raoul had pulled an all-nighter the day before, having only had maybe three hours of sleep. It did not happen often but enough that Erik had caught on to the pattern rather quickly.

Raoul stood and swayed for a moment, eyes open but seeing nothing in particular. He shuffled out of the bedroom, Erik trailing after him, as he led them to their small kitchenette. Opening a cabinet, he pulled out a frying pan and slammed it atop their electric stove with little care before turning to the refrigerator. Erik grabbed the pan and placed it back where it belonged and by the time Raoul turned back around, they were face-to-face and he was ready to hold onto both of Raoul’s hands to save the eggs from dropping to the floor as they had in previous nights.

“Bn-fit kuh,” Raoul mumbled an explanation Erik had heard many times before when he had tried to stop him from making a mess of their kitchenette. It had been a trial and error sort of experience. The shorter man had a tendency to attempt to walk through him and there was that one time he managed to almost injure them both, but when Erik held onto him, something in Raoul’s sleep-addled brain recognized his presence. He did not struggle, did not shy away from his touch, and thankfully stopped trying to walk through him. He was completely at ease and pliable to suggestions whenever Erik’s hands held his.

So, Erik held him. Out of necessity. He was just grateful that Raoul never remembered these nights. In the morning when he woke, it was as though he had never walked through their dorm and tried to cook them breakfast while he was still asleep.

“I know,” Erik replied, kinder than knew he should be. “Breakfast can wait. It’s time to sleep.”

But when Raoul pouted at him like that and leaned forward to press his forehead against his shoulder, Erik could not bring himself to try to push him away much less say a harsh word. Raoul pulled their hands out of the way so that he could press his chest against Erik’s and give an appreciative “Wmm.”

Erik held still, not even daring to breathe lest he somehow wake him, although he knew how impossible a task that was. He let Raoul soak in his body heat because he could feel the chill settling in since Raoul refused to sleep in anything more than his sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. He could see goose bumps on his arms already.  

“Kuh,” Raoul muttered again. The words that followed were nothing more than gibberish and even as adept as Erik had gotten in translating Raoul’s sleep speak, he could not decipher that. The blond turned his head so that he could nuzzle Erik’s shoulder so very much like how a cat would and Erik knew that he was trying to say his name. He assumed he was.

There was always the lingering doubt that perhaps his roommate was trying to call out someone else’s name. It was little wonder whose it could be, Christine, Raoul’s would be girlfriend – _would be_ if he would just gather enough courage to ask her out. Erik did not know with whom he would be more mad if he finally did: Raoul, Christine, or himself.

“To bed, Raoul,” Erik turned his head and muttered into the crown of Raoul’s head, taking a moment to take in the smell of his shampoo. He pried the eggs from Raoul’s hand and nudged him back in the direction of their bedroom.

Some nights, Raoul would refuse or end up in the bathroom or that one time in the closet, but Erik watched him shuffle his way back to their bedroom with a sigh of relief. After placing the eggs back in the carton, he followed after him.

Raoul would sleep for the rest of the night and Erik spend that time trying and failing to forget what it felt like to have Raoul against him and how easy it would be to just wrap his arms around him in a hug.

He sighed and walked into the room, stopping when he saw Raoul’s bed empty and the nest of blankets in disarray. He was about to go back to check the closet when he saw a pile of blankets that had migrated to his own bed.

This had never happened before. He stared at Raoul in his bed as he rolled over to grab his pillow before curling around it. His hand groped around him futilely trying to pull the blankets over himself again, but he had somehow managed to lie atop them. Without thinking, Erik closed the distance between them and tugged the blankets free. He was just settling it around his shoulders when Raoul muttered again, “Kuh” with a sigh.

Erik pulled his chair out from beneath his desk and dropped onto it. He stared at Raoul for long moments and thought of last year. He had spent last semester obsessed with Christine, and his plan for this semester and year actually had been to spend it very much in the same way. It had been a good plan; he was good at appreciating beauty from a distance. He had been forced to do so all his life because of his face. Plans could change however; they _had_ changed when he was saddled with a roommate who was too beautiful for his own good and suddenly the concept of true distance and anonymity became an impossibility.

He glanced at Raoul’s bed and knew immediately he would not be able to sleep there. There was always the couch, but he doubted he would be able to sleep at all with the knowledge that Raoul was in his bed. Raoul had chosen _his_ bed despite its lack of blankets to sleep in. It meant nothing of course. Raoul was asleep and probably had no idea in whose bed he was. Erik, on the other hand, did not have that luxury. He clicked the table lamp off and laid his head on his arms, turned to keep Raoul in sight, turned really because his mask would have gotten in the way any other position. He would just rest and think for a moment.

It had not been a difficult transition between deciding to watch Raoul instead of Christine; Erik liked to think it a simple matter of opportunity. Raoul was always present and Christine was not. He just had to be more cautious not to ruin the surprisingly easy camaraderie that existed between them as roommates. All he needed to do was adjust his plan to keep what very little distance there was between them remaining and all would be well.

Raoul snuffled and hugged Erik’s pillow tighter to himself.

Erik exhaled roughly and tried to convince himself his plan was not doomed.

o.o.o.o

End ficlet

A/N: That summary probably led you astray. Sorry? ;3 Thank sweet goodness this is the last variation (and only one angsty one in the bunch). I don’t know if I’m going to do that last variation set I was planning to do for January. It’s timed rather poorly. Also, sometimes I think back to that time when I was convinced I was going to quit writing fanfiction in general and I laugh at myself because that obviously didn’t happen.

Fic Review: Raoul’s a sleepwalker when he doesn’t get enough sleep. Can you imagine when it gets hot and Raoul decides to sleep in only his boxers and no shirt? :D Good times. No, but Erik’s not going to survive this experience.

You know Raoul’s going to wake up and see Erik had fallen asleep at his desk. He’ll wonder what the hell happened because he distinctly remembered going to bed in _his own_ bed. Then, he comes to the realization that holy crap, he’s been sleepwalking again and he’d thought he’d been doing well so far. He wakes Erik and apologizes and they try to have a conversation about it but they have to part for their separates classes and Raoul wracks his brain on how to make it up to Erik for being such a problem and kicking him out of his own bed. He sends a text to Erik saying to meet him at a restaurant, his treat, of course to make it up to him as they talk about what’s been going on because he needs to explain. Erik says yes because he cannot imagine Raoul taking no for an answer and just wonders what food he’ll get and putting the dinner he had been planning on cooking that night on hold. When Raoul responds with “It’s a date”, Erik’s brain sort of short circuits and there is a bit of panic. The logical part of him understands that it’s just a phrase people say without actually meaning it’s a date, but there’s that other part that kind of freaks out because he’s shocked by how much he wants Raoul to have actually meant it. :D


End file.
